Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1)

by Belladona Cunning

  Harloe started out as my best friend, and through the years of platonic friendship, our relationship has evolved into so much more.

  "Is it my birthday present?" She claps her hands rapidly as she jumps into the air with glee. Pure, unadulterated happiness practically glows off her skin. Harloe is the pure epitome of angelic beauty. Even the sun hungers to leave its warmth on her golden kissed skin.

  I can't stop myself from laughing at her antics and grabbing her and pulling her into my body. Nuzzling into her neck, my lips seek the skin of her throat. "You're too adorable."

  She giggles, her body trembling with suppressed laughter. My arms tighten around her waist, but instead of pushing me away, she burrows deeper into my chest.

  God, I love this girl. She makes everything worth it.

  "Yes," I say, raking my lips across her soft skin. I smile against her when I feel the quiver overtake her body. She's always so sensitive. "It's your birthday present."

  "It's not one of those expensive doohickeys, is it?" she asks, pulling away and chancing a look up at me.

  That doohickey she's talking about? It's a cell phone. Not your high tech, fancy type, either. This is a standard, run-of-the-mill, matte black cell phone with the only apps on it being the contacts and Google Chrome. It’s not the most up-to-date touchscreen, nor is it a cell phone that many people have.

  Harloe had never had a cell phone for as long as I've known her. Not that her parents couldn't afford it, because they're not that poor, but because Harloe doesn’t want one. According to her, if you can't speak face-to-face with someone, then whatever you had to say to them isn’t important enough.

  For the past few months, I've been joking with her about getting her a cell phone just like the one I have. Honestly, she didn't like that idea too much. She kept saying that it was unnecessary and a waste of money. While she may be true about a duplicate of my cell phone being a waste of money, being able to talk to her at any time of the day would have made the purchase worth it.

  If I were getting her one. However, I know a cell phone wouldn't be something she'd cherish. She needed something with a deeper meaning. A present that would compel her to unravel the mystery behind it. A present that took time and effort to discover.

  Days unfolded into weeks before I found the perfect gift that would drive my girl wild with the need to pick apart its origins with researching.

  It cost a pretty penny from that store keep once she saw how interested I was in the piece. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

  We're standing on my balcony, just holding each other as we stare up at the night sky. It was one of those moments after being together, and we were just taking a few moments to revel in each other's presence.

  “You are a priceless treasure,” I whisper into the humid night air. “Do you know that?”

  She twists her head, peering up at me through dark, thick lashes. Her smile lights up my entire world. Instead of the gray, gloomy clouds that constantly hang over my head, when I’m with her, everything is in color: vibrant reds, blues, pinks, purples. The dawn of each day has new meaning for me, just like the end of a day when the sun sets.

  Harloe is both the sun and moon in my world, and my life revolves around nothing but her.

  Snagging the box out of my pocket, I wrap my arm around her and hold it up in front of her near the railing. Her gasp can be heard over the whispering wind, and by the sudden jerk of her stomach.

  My insides are nothing more than tumultuous waves of panic and nausea. What if she doesn't like it? What if I chose wrong? Swallowing down my sudden bout of nerves, I gesture for her to open it.

  I know she can feel how hard my heart is thumping inside my chest, but she doesn't say anything as she takes the small box from my hands. Sweat drips down my temple and the back of my neck as she slowly opens it. But when she gets a peek at what's inside, a tiny squeak sounds out, before she's slapping a hand over her mouth.

  Fuck, she hates it. Dammit. I'm about to tell her that I'll get her something else—something she’ll like—when she turns in my arms, tears building in her lovely greens.

  "A necklace?" she asks, swallowing hard as her emotions become too heightened. "You got me a necklace."

  "Do you like it?" I ask timidly.

  She sniffles and then drops her head to stare back into the box once more. "Like it? I love it, Hunt. It's the best thing ever."

  Then, she raises her head and lifts up onto her tip-toes as she wraps her arms around my neck. Licking my lips, I tighten my hold, bringing her flush against my front. Pressing her lips to mine, merely a ghosting of lips against lips, I feel my blood simmering, infusing my body, and traveling to places I try to hold back.

  Being near Harloe, and knowing you are the only one who has the luxury, is like being in the presence of the goddess Aphrodite. My body feels alive any time she's close.

  "It's a piece of treasure for my treasure."

  She's quiet for a moment, thinking, as she runs her fingers through my hair. Her ministrations are so light and electrifying, it feels like her hands are running all over my body. No other girl has ever made me feel the way my best friend does. The first time we kissed, I thought it was a fluke because nothing should feel this wrong, yet be so right.

  That was my belief until we kissed once more. After that time, it was undoubtedly the turning point. I knew Harloe belonged to me and only me. The same way I belonged to her.

  We've been dating for over a year now, and things have been progressing. The only thing we've ever done is kiss and a little bit of fondling over our clothes up until this point, but tonight, I have this integral need to be with her. To get as close as possible as we both lose ourselves to the way we feel with each other.

  Nothing too serious. I mean, I don't want to rush her with anything. But the way she's holding me tightly, unknowingly rubbing her body all over mine, and subtly caressing my hard dick, I can barely take it.

  She closes the distance between our lips, giving me a quick, chaste kiss—just enough of a taste to piss me off. Darting forward, I steal another, longer kiss. She moans into my mouth, and the guttural, yearning sound causes me to lose my head for a moment. Forcing her back into the balcony ledge, my hands grab both sides of her face, tilting her head as I dive back down for a deeper, more intrusive taste.

  As our lips caress each other's, our kiss turns more heated and possessive. I know I need to be careful with her, as she's innocent to being with a guy. But I simply can't. She drives me wild.

  "You taste just like honeydew," I groan, panting against her lips. "So sweet and delicious."

  Getting lost in the kiss once more, surprise burns me from the inside out when I feel her meeting me thrust for thrust with her tongue. A deep, ravenous groan reverberates inside my chest. Her tongue is soft and warm. She's so sweet, I'd swear I'd get a toothache from too much exposure.

  Hands wander down the sides of her neck, ghost along her shoulders and down her biceps until they finally wrap around her hips. I feel light-headed from lack of oxygen, but I'll be damned if I stop now. She's too tempting to pass up. And knowing she's mine, that I've made her happy—goddamn, I'm riding a high like none other.

  Her hips jut against my hard cock, making me grunt from pleasure. Her lips pull away from mine, but instead of murmuring any complaints, I nuzzle her neck and start kissing and licking, trailing my tongue from the top of her collarbone to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Harloe's moans get louder, gravellier like she's grating her voice box against a rock. It's sensual, passionate.

  Fuck, I want her so much.

  Our chests rise and fall more hurriedly than before, growing too excited, much too fast. And just as I'm about to put the brakes on—with the last bit of self-control I have left inside me—her tiny voice breaks through my pleasure-filled haze.

  "I'm ready."

  I gently pull away, like I’m afraid if I move too fast, it’ll scare her off, and she’ll change her mind. I peer down into emerald eyes fil
led to the brim with arousal, love, and appreciation for me, giving them a glassy sheen.

  Swallowing hard, I rasp, "Are you sure?"

  She nods, biting her lips nervously. "I love you. You’re my always and forever."

  Caressing her cheek, my heart blooms with warmth. My heart expands until it feels like it can't expand anymore. "And you’re mine. I love you, Lo."

  Coming out of the memory is like a jolt of lightning that rocks through me. This girl … she was my sun, moon, and stars. She was my rainbow after the most tumultuous of storms—the answer to my prayers. Even at fifteen, I knew Harloe was supposed to be my forever girl.

  The level of feelings we had for each other would have terrified our parents, so we kept it our secret. We were waiting for the right time—to give it a few more years to prove to our parents we were serious—before letting the cat out of the bag about our future plans.

  I would have cherished her for the rest of my days. Except, a few words from my brother’s lips tore my entire future away from me. A supposed lie, one I will most definitely get to the bottom of the next time I visit home. Because if I’m to live the rest of my life in the disasters of my life, someone—my older brother, preferably—will be the miserable guest I force to accompany me.

  CHAPTER 23

  Have you ever thought about the driftwood that goes out to sea?

  How—if they did have the ability to feel emotion—it would make them feel unwanted by everyone that allowed their existence to be overlooked so easily. How the tides turn, and the sea is unforgiving and ruthless, yet they are the objects that have to put up with his powerful currents?

  In all my life, I have never felt this sort of pain before. I feel just how I'd imagine a piece of driftwood would, useless and unwanted. How betrayal can taste so blissfully sweet, like a ripe peach, yet corrode your insides like battery acid.

  Clenching my fists, I pace back and forth in my dad's kitchen. It takes all of my restraint to keep from knocking Duncan across the face. Never, in all my life, have I ever wanted to inflict bodily harm on him as badly as I do right now.

  "You lied!" I raise my voice, thankful my dad isn't here, and that Maverick is dead to the world asleep. If not, I wouldn't be carrying on like this. My baby doesn't need to see his mom's bad side. "You lied! No one was hurt!”

  He has the audacity to look ashamed, as he sits at Dad's kitchen table nursing a tepid cup of coffee. "Harloe, you have to understand, I said that knowing you'd come here."

  "And that makes it worse!" I screech so forcefully, I feel my throat inflame from the grittiness of my anger. "Why not just tell the truth? You know how much I despise lying!"

  At that, he gives me a funny look. "The same way you've been lying to Hunter since day one? Have you even told him about Maverick? He's gonna know something is up when there is a mini-him walking around campus cussing people out for stepping on bugs!"

  Ugh, I hate that he’s right, but goddammit, this is a new low even for him. He knows how fucked I was after Mom died. He knows it was hard getting through all of that, seemingly alone. And he’s still going to put that on me? That’s a new low even for him.

  All the anger seems to depress out of me with his words. I'm still pretty darn pissed at him, but when it comes to what he's insinuating, I can't be mad at that. I'd be a hypocrite.

  "Maverick cannot come live with me until January, Duncan. You know this, and I hate that you've put me in this predicament. There will be nowhere for him to stay. I'll have to miss classes, pick up a job to pay for off-campus daycare until my financial aid kicks in for the childcare on campus. When that happens, I'll have flunked out altogether."

  I have to break eye contact with him, forcefully trying to keep my emotions in check. Duncan is putting me in a bind, all without telling my dad.

  Right now, my dad is working late at the office. Too late if you ask me. He’s doing quarterly numbers, and that means he’s pulling long hours. He doesn’t even know that Duncan called me, frantic, saying that Dad was hurt. He will kill Duncan when he finds out, and that’s not me playing around.

  Duncan isn't a bad person, but apparently acting as a half-time babysitter when our dad is at work is becoming too much for him. All he does is run that mechanic shop all day. He’s not even under the cars anymore. He’s in a nice, cushy office. If having Maverick is having this much of an ill-effect on him, he could have taken money out of the savings and offered to pay that lovely lady across the street. Not all the time, because we need that money for campus life, but enough that he could do what he needed to instead of running ragged after a two-year-old.

  Maverick's energy and his bout of terrible twos are taking its toll. He screams and cries for me when we're not on the phone or video chatting, which has slimmed down because I’m afraid of Jenna finding out. My brother told me that when I pulled into the driveway like a madwoman, dashed inside, only to find out it was all a ruse to get me here.

  I didn't know. I didn’t know about any of it. Maverick has been so good on the phone, laughing and cooing at everything we do. When we video chat, we usually watch his favorite tv show on cable. He tells me a thousand facts about the show, and the train that is so mighty and strong, even though it’s the same thing I’ve heard a thousand times.

  How could I not know my son was hurting this much? All for what? Because I’m too fucking terrified to tell his dad that he exists? That I’m relying on financial aid, when I know Hunter would pay for on-campus daycare if he knew, just to have our son close to us.

  But I’m still terrified. Absolutely frightened of the way Hunter will react. The other day, during class, I almost told him. It was right there on the tip of my tongue. But I just couldn’t do it. Even afterward when I had the chance.

  Each minute, hour, day, week, month, and year that Maverick has been alive, I’ve had the opportunity to tell Hunter. First, it was the pain of his betrayal holding me back. Then, the anger and pettiness. If he didn’t want me, he wouldn’t want him. Now, it’s the fact that all that shit came to the surface about his brother and me. Even with me speaking the truth, I could tell Hunter didn’t honestly believe me. He’ll want to talk to Owen first.

  Then what? If Own lies again, and Hunter sees Maverick—I’m toast.

  Does that make me a terrible mom for wanting to make sure everything is safe before I take that leap and bring him to Golden oaks? Because when I bring him on campus, there is no going back. Jenna will know immediately, and I have to risk her being pissed off at me for not telling her. I always have to prepare myself in the event that she’ll want to move out.

  Jenna is the only one who’s been keeping me sane. She may be fucking one of Hunter’s friends on the regular, but that doesn’t negate the fact she has my back.

  What will happen if she deserts me, too?

  A sob catches in my chest, and before I know it, Duncan is out of his seat and rounding the table, taking me into his arms. The warm feeling of his big body encasing me has an instantaneous effect. It enrages me and makes me feel better all at the same time.

  Stepping away from him, I use the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. “It’s amazing we kept Maverick a secret for this long, considering you’re friends with you know who. But, Duncan, his family still lives in Golden Oaks—fucking hell, Hunter is going to GOU! I was using this time to figure out what I was going to do. I can hide him from Hunter, I know it. We both know what will happen if that family finds out one of them has an heir. I hate to even think it, but they will go ballistic."

  "Whose fault is that, Lo?" Duncan asks. "It's yours in case you're wondering. You kept that little boy from his father. You kept him from his extended family. It will be you who takes the brunt of their anger."

  I jam my hands into my hair, messing up my already messy bun. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" Then I spear him with eyes filled with fire. "Hunter will believe Maverick is Owen's! Don't you understand?"

  My brother falls back a step. "What? You an
d he ne—"

  "That won't fucking matter! Remember that night I came home crying? The same night I found out I was pregnant? That's why! Hunter dropped me like a sack of potatoes. Apparently, Owen told Hunter I slept with him, so put two and two together, Duncan." Every muscle in my body tightens as I slice my arm down between us. "He will see Maverick once, and that’s all it will take. He’ll believe he belongs to Owen, and he’ll conjure up in his head that that is the reason I ran off, no matter what I've already told him. He’ll believe what he sees."

  "Maverick looks just like him!" Duncan argues, but it's a pitiful argument. He and I both know that.

  "Owen and Hunter could pass as twins, and you freaking know it. Maverick has an ice blue eye and an emerald green eye. Get it now?!”

  “That means nothing.”

  An emotionless laugh free falls from my lips. “It means everything, Duncan. You don’t know how Hunter is. Only I do. Maverick’s mismatched eyes are a Prince's trait, yes. But Hunter won't even acknowledge the fact Maverick inherited his eyes from him and me. All he will see is the color of Owen's bright emerald flashing in his face and think I betrayed him. Again. That will be enough to condemn me, even if it's the most idiotic reason.”

  Duncan’s eyes flash with heat. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get over this, Lo. The truth will come out, and it’s about time it did.”

  My mouth falls open in disbelief. “He rebuked me because of a blatant lie, Duncan!"

  Just thinking about all those years ago lights a fire under my ass. It makes me into the fierce hellion that Hunter fell in love with. However, after everything I've been through, I know I'm no longer that girl. In fact, this is the most infuriated I've been since my mother asked me about getting an abortion.

  There was no way I was going to give up my baby, even though Hunter wanted nothing to do with me. At the time, Hunter tossed me to the side like discarded trash, so I took that to mean he didn't want anything to do with me. Period. Wouldn't that be the most logical thing obtained from basically being tossed out on your ass?